Create An Illusion
by Terrahfry
Summary: Slash- M/M, one-sided Frerard. One shot. He was only his lover inside his head. He had created this perfect illusion and this was the night it shattered. Dark, angst.


**One-sided Frerard. One shot. Dark, angst, character death, drinking & drug use, cross-dress, implied non-con sexual activity. I usually don't go for the tragic Frerards, but I couldn't help this. Been squeamish to put it here for awhile, but here goes.**

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**Create An Illusion;  
Rated; M/ L, S, V (slight non-con, death)  
Set-up; Frank was only his lover inside his head. Gerard had created this perfect illusion and this was the night it shattered.**

The needle would rip a hole in his skin. Gerard held the syringe unsteadily between two fingers like it was the last cigarette of the day. It looked strange in his long pale fingers. Alien almost. It didn't belong there. The silvery sharp point glistened under the bedroom light and he shuddered.

No. He was not this desperate yet. This shit wasn't for him.

He flushed all of it down the toilet and threw the rest in the trash can.

More of his black polish chipped from his nails as he gnawed on them with tiny crocked teeth, a lopsided mouth pulled back in a grimace. He downed the pills shaking and took another drink. And another. The empty bottle smashed against the wall and he cried out, gasping raggedly and choking back dry sobs as he tugged at his long tangled black hair. Then he looked at the shattered glass that glittered on the floor and whimpered in alarm. He went about picking up the broken pieces. His lover liked a clean house. Clean clean clean clean clean. Frank would not be pleased.

Long black locks fell down in front of large hazel green eyes as he lifted his hand to watch the blood well up from the tiny slash in his finger in bleak fascination. The glass shard had pricked a larger hole than the needle would have. Cherry full lips sucked away the blood, tongue tasting the metallic.

Clean. All clean. So fucking perfect an illusion Gerard would create as he always had. Always creating. Creating worlds and creating stories to keep the voices at bay. He may have created himself and this world. He wasn't sure. The lines of reality sometimes blurred and twisted and left him curiously confused. No, he did not create this world. _I'd have you in this world, _he thought. It'd be perfect. It is perfect.

_"I tried to be perfect for you, Frankie. I'm all dressed up. You don't like it? In a black dress and fishnets, in high heels. I did my makeup so pretty and nice.. Just for you."_

He drug his fingernails up black fishnet stockings before rolling them down and putting them neatly away. The black silk panties hugged his hips and trapped his dick inside just fucking snug and tight.

_"I want to touch you.. I just can't.."_ And tattooed fingers slipped away from Gerard's pale hips and those sinful black panties.

The tight black t-shirt he wore now was comfy and worn, a little faded. The panties cut into the stomach he hated and his thighs. He ran fingernails over his belly as the shirt rode up, leaving red lines as he scratched the pale skin. He hadn't realized he was crying. Tears stained his cheeks as well as the black makeup that ran down from his bloodshot eyes. He got another drink and another. He laid back on the bed on red and black silk sheets, legs closed together and to the side.

_"I love you so much.. that's real, Frank.." His voice trembled._

_"I'm not gay.. Gee, you're my friend and I love you, man.. but I'm just not into dudes, okay. Maybe if you were a girl.." A dry laugh. "I just can't love you like you need me.."_

No. He'd come around. He loved him. You love me, Frankie. I know it. That girl's just a sorry coverup.

_"You like me..? All dressed up..?" I can look just like a girl. Create an illusion just for you..._

Another drink, strong, burning his throat as it constricted tight under his crying. The room spun.

_Plush, arousal-swollen and flushed lips slid up and down the hard shaft of his cock, stretching over the width so beautifully, spit glistened behind in their wake and little sucking gagged sounds emitted in the dark._

_"I wanted to do something nice for you.. wake you up gently.." The voice was unsure but purred._

_"Man, fuck! No! Not cool! I told you! I'm not into.. I could have you put in jail.." Frank was angry, unbelieving._

_"But, baby.. just give me a chance.." So desperate.._

_"No, your chances are over, Gerard. I think you're delusional and we shouldn't hang out anymore.."_

More tears spilled, heart clinching so painfully tight in his chest he thought he'd die. Maybe he wished he would. Another drink. Spit-slick lips wrapped around the neck of the bottle.

He wasn't delusional, Frank was. His lover was cheating on him. Had to be. That was it.

Gerard flicked the lighter and stared at the flame as it flickered and danced, a pink tongue flicking out to lick it and breath from his nostrils blowing it out before he could touch it. Something had to be done about the bitch.

Another drink. He was so dizzy.

-xx-

Gerard didn't know what happened. He woke up in a strange place, covered in blood. The light from the crack in the curtain of the window hurt his eyes and his head pounded violently. He was hugging another body tight. It was cold and stiff and knife holes littered the chest and stomach. So much blood. He raked his sticky hair back with blood stained fingers. The body was covered in tattoos... like Frank's. His heart sank.

Oh, fuck no. What had he done last night? He was drunk and heart-broken..

He wept.

The other body that was laid sprawled out in the chair of the hotel room was a woman's, her throat slit and Gerard was covered in their blood. Blood everywhere, soaking into the white sheets on the bed and into the mattress, on the beige floors and splattered on the white walls and the ugly picture hanging above the bed of a meadow with bright purple flowers and green grass.

It had been a massacre. It had been rage and hurt and alcohol and pills. He had lost control.

Gerard ran his fingers down the bare tattooed chest of the lover he only saw in his head, grazing the skin of Frank's unbreathing and dead body. Pale lopsided lips pulled back to reveal tiny frightened teeth. He sobbed, hugged the body tighter, rocking as he cried and mourned. He did not mourn the girl.

He laid for the longest. Disoriented and confused. Blood stained fingers caressed the dark brown hair of the cold body of what used to be Frank that was laying beside him. He laid his head on the toned breathless chest, ear pressed to flesh and hair covering his face. Gerard finally pulled himself up, arms and bare long pale legs painted red with blood. The knife lay on the beige carpet, crusted with blood. Blood everywhere.

The sun hurt his eyes as he walked outside, limping across the parking lot of the hotel in a faded black shirt and black silk panties, black hair a mess of tangle and matted with blood. So much black. So much blood. Hazel eyes blinked in the harsh sun and he staggered on. He vaguely registered the car horns blaring at him as the semi truck greeted him on the highway.

He'd swear he didn't feel a thing.

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**I usually don't go for the tragic Frerards, but this just came out of nowhere & I was pretty happy with it. For once Frank wasn't the one hopelessly in love with Gerard. I didn't mention who the girl was, I do not write real-life girlfriends or wives. She was just an unnamed OC as far as anyone's concerned. It was just a story, I love both of these darling men & would hope nothing of this nature would ever happen to them. I own no one or nothing & I make no profit.**


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